


Saturn

by an_artsy_lexus



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-23 04:46:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20236963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/an_artsy_lexus/pseuds/an_artsy_lexus
Summary: A songfic to Sleeping at Last's "Saturn"I do not give my consent for this fic to be reposted on any other platform.





	Saturn

**Author's Note:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dzNvk80XY9s

Swerve’s was always full at this time of night. Mechs of all affiliations lined the bar and the dance floor in various states of drunkenness. He passed through the hubbub of activity, the crowd parting for him. Few would challenge the brittle old warlord, despite the bright red insignia now plastered on his chest and his promise to pacifism.

Megatron sat at the bar and ex-vented with an air of exhaustion.

“Rough day?” Swerve slid a cube of Engex towards the mech.

“You could say that,” Megatron downed the drink and slid the cube back to Swerve, signaling for more. “Although anyone trying to run a ship with Rodimus and Ultra Magnus of all the Primus-forsaken mechs would say the same thing.”

Swerve laughed.

“They’ve certainly made this an adventure.”

“You still call this an adventure?”

“Who wouldn’t?” Swerve beamed and slid another drink across the bar. Megatron rolled his optics, cupping his servos around the cube and ex-venting again.

The rest of the mechs at the bar had smiles plastered across their faceplates. The synth heavy Cybertronian music blasting over the speakers gave the bar-goers a beat to embarrass themselves to. It was good. The crew deserved a break.

After a few minutes, Swerve piped up again.

“Hey, Megs?”

“Don’t call me that. What?” Megatron’s red optics glared at the bartender. Swerve didn’t seem to notice or care.

“I’m thinking about hosting a karaoke night. Earth-themed. It’ll be fun.”

Megatron grunted in response, taking another sip from his drink.

“You should come.”

“I’m not much for singing, Swerve,” Megatron cocked an eyebrow ridge. “I doubt anyone wants to hear-”

“You deserve a break, too. You never give yourself a chance to relax,” Swerve interrupted, voice more firm than normal. He looked out over the crowd in the bar. “… and maybe it’ll make them less wary of you.”

“I don’t care,” Megatron shrugged. “I don’t think they’ll ever let their guard down around-”

“Megs,” another glare from tired optics. “Give them time. And seriously. Just come check it out.”

Megatron ex-vented and grunted, exasperated with the eccentric bartender.

“Fine. Maybe.”

* * *

A deca-cycle later, Swerve had decorated the bar with various Earth-themed knickknacks — likely provided by Swindle — and taken altogether too much delight in renaming every drink on the menu.

When Megatron walked in, he was greeted with Rodimus screeching along to The Touch, cheered on by a crowd of drunk crew members. Megatron groaned and headed straight for the bar.

“You came!” Swerve beamed. “What do you think? I can’t make some of the more complicated Earth-drinks with only Engex, but I’ve got a few that are pretty pop-”

“Swerve. Just the usual,” Megatron gestured for a cube. Swerve ex-vented but complied, pouring out a cube of low-grade and sliding it across the bar.

“… are you gonna try it out? The karaoke?” Swerve asked, cleaning out a cube. “Roddy has been at it for a joor.”

“Let some other poor bastard follow him,” Megatron shook his helm. “He’s clearly not done yet. We’ll all need to recharge before he’s finished.”

“C’mon, Megs…” Swerve pleaded.

“Don’t-”

Swerve interrupted him, passing him a datapad open to a document that listed all the songs he had found karaoke versions for.

“Live a little,” Swerve refilled Megatron's drink before moving to the other end of the bar.

Megatron reviewed the eclectic list of songs. Swerve had tried to sample music from across cultures, time, and genres — and done a great fragging job of it. While Megatron was always drawn to older poetic music, he decided out of curiosity to explore what modern music Swerve had found.

While scrolling through the list, a song caught his eye. The lyrics were short and sweet — it appeared to rely more heavily on instrumental music — but they held meaning. Megatron opened the audio file.

Gentle strings, piano, and percussion met his audials in a melody that ebbed and flowed like the tides of oil on Cybertron. His in-vent hitched as he listened, quieting as the lyrics began.

* * *

_You taught me the courage of stars before you left_

* * *

He hadn’t expected to find himself in a bar brawl. He hadn’t expected to end up in jail. Megatron knew this and luckily, so did the police captain Orion Pax.

“You’re right, you know,” Pax messaged him over comm-link after he released the miner.

“What about?” Megatron threw him an odd glance, curious as to why the officer felt the need to keep their conversation off the airwaves.

“Pacifism,” Pax replied, a gentle flame behind his bright blue optics. “This system is wrong. And I genuinely believe you can change it.”

Megatron scoffed.

“I’m not so sure anymore…”

* * *

_How light carries on endlessly, even after death_

* * *

“There’s something you may want to see, Lord Megatron…” Starscream approached the new warlord’s command center.

“Pray tell, Starscream, what could possibly be so important that you dare interrupt me?” Megatron grumbled, sifting through datapads.

“That officer, Pax… He isn’t dead,” Starscream flinched as a datapad flew by his helm.

“WHAT?!” Megatron roared, standing and approaching his second-in-command.

“They’ve… they’ve made him a Prime, my lord,” Starscream met Megatron’s optics. “Optimus Prime.”

* * *

_With shortness of breath, you explained the infinite_

* * *

“Megatron!” Orion Pax beamed, leaning over the railing separating the mechs from the oily sea below the cliffs. “Look at the stars!”

The miner approached the officer, still wary after the incident at the bar. The stars were indeed bright — the pair were far away from the glow of Cybertron’s bustling cities. Only the stars and their biolights reflected on the roiling inky depths below them, a storm forming at the edge of the horizon.

“… I wish I could explore beyond this planet,” Pax mused, staring with wonder at the sky overhead. “There’s so many worlds… There must be somewhere better than here.”

“Anything is better than a Functionist world,” Megatron grunted, leaning his back against the railing and staring at the stars.

“Yes, but… think about it. What if there’s life out there? What if there’s another planet with life so different from us we wouldn’t even recognize it? What if each one of those stars represents hope to someone different, someone wondering the same things as us?...”

Megatron raised an eyebrow ridge, glancing at the officer beside him. Pax was still beaming, completely awestruck at the view. He leaned his helm on Megatron’s shoulder.

“Someday, maybe we can explore them together…”

* * *

_How rare and beautiful it is to even exist_

* * *

Megatron didn’t know this was the last time they’d meet at the cliff. How could he? They’d been going there for stellar cycles.

“What’s wrong, love?” Megatron caressed his partner’s helm. Pax had been staring silently at the oily ocean for a joor and his expression had only grown darker over time.

“… a mech got offlined at work today,” Pax kicked a rusty chunk of metal off the cliff and watched it hit the raging sea below.

“What made this mech different?” Megatron gently prodded, knowing that if he pushed too far, Pax would push away — and refuse to give Megatron the answers he desired.

“She was obeying them,” Pax looked at Megatron with optics overflowing with coolant. “She wasn’t doing anything wrong. She was doing what she was built to do, but the Functionist mob attacked her anyway… and not even Ratchet could repair her before her spark dimmed.” Pax punched the railing, leaving a servo-sized dent in the metal.

“I’m sorry, Orion…” Megatron gently wrapped Pax in a hug, consoling the sobbing mech. “It’s not your fault.”

“But if I had gotten there a cycle earlier-”

“Pax,” Megatron tilted his chin up so their optics met. “You can’t save them all.”

* * *

_I couldn’t help but ask_

_For you to say it all again_

_I tried to write it down_

_But I could never find a pen_

* * *

Megatron groaned and gripped his helm. No matter how many times he wrote and rewrote it, the poem never seemed right.

It had been a deca-cycle since he’d last seen Pax at the cliff. He missed the old songs the officer would sing as they stared at far away worlds. He missed the bright optics and the laughter Pax covered with his muffler. He missed…

He missed all of it.

For stellar cycles, Pax had been his everything. While they stood on opposite sides of ever-rising tension, Megatron couldn’t deny that there was something about the mech that brought him to a screeching halt every time he saw him.

He didn’t want it to end like this.

* * *

_I’d give anything to hear_

_You say it one more time_

_That the universe was made_

_Just to be seen by my eyes_

* * *

Pax ex-vented loudly, wiping the energon off his faceplate and struggling to stand.

“He’s… dead,” Pax stared at Zeta Prime’s sparkless frame.

“Well what else did you expect?” Megatron scoffed. Pax rolled his optics and turned around, putting a servo to his audial as he received a comm from Ironhide.

“… glad to hear it. Send in Ratchet and his engineering crew… We’re in pretty bad shape, up here.”

“That won’t be necessary," Megatron placed his cannon against the small of Pax’s back, gently pushing him back into the ground.

“Megatron?...” Pax’s optics flared, confusion melting with pain as his optics began to resemble to roiling sea the pair had spent so many cycles gazing out at.

“You and your autobots have served your purpose,” Megatron purred, ripping a hole through Pax’s frame as he fired.

Megatron watched as Pax’s frame went crashing through the building below them, tumbling into the inky darkness — a poetic end for a poetic mech.

“Goodbye…” Megatron choked, coolant overflowing from his optics. “… Orion Pax.”

* * *

_With shortness of breath, I’ll explain the infinite_

_How rare and beautiful it truly is that we exist_

* * *

“-Megs? Megs! Hey, are you okay?” Swerve was offering him a napkin, worry plaguing the mech’s optics.

“Hm?” Megatron in-vented loudly, noticing that coolant had dripped all over the bar in front of him- and seemed to be leaking from his optics. “Yes, I’m… I’m fine.” He grabbed the napkin and cleaned the coolant off his faceplate.

“… do you want to talk about it?” Swerve seemed oddly wary. Had he never seen his superior emote?

“… no. Just another drink, please."

**Author's Note:**

> I used dialogue from The Transformers: Autocracy #8 for one of these scenes. I tried to keep details as close to canon as I could.


End file.
